Dog Gone: Operation Export Locha

The first day I stepped on the beach in Zanzibar I saw her. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. She looked just like my pooch Phoebe… same size, same color, same face, same lopsided ears. She was under a beach bed. There were people lying on the beds so I assumed she belonged to them. It didn’t matter. She reminded me of my dog and nothing was going to prevent me from petting her. When I asked if I could pet their dog the couple explained that it wasn’t their dog. She had found refuge under their beach bed and had been lying there all afternoon. They explained that a group of local boys had been chasing and throwing things at her. I sat down on the sand and called her to me and she came straight away, tail wagging head hung low showing submission. Although she was wearing a collar, she was very thin, too thin for her body frame. She also had a big gash on her right paw that was full of sand. I went to find her some fresh water. She drank for what seemed like ten minutes non-stop. I then gave her some of my left over lunch. She swallowed it without chewing. It was obvious this dog was not being taken care of. She was very dehydrated and starving.
Over the next few days I watched her beg for food from tourist along the beach, she would be chased and terrorized by the gang of local boys and she would seek protection under the occupied beach beds. I started to learn more about this lone beach dog. She was about a year old and her name was Locha. From what I was told, her owner moved away from Kendwa Beach and left Locha when they moved. I had also learned that this was a Muslim island and Muslims in this country did not like dogs, at all. I was informed by several shop owners that the same gang of local boys that torment Locha recently stoned to death another dog.
Locha and I became inseparable. She was now getting fresh water and food from me on a regular basis. She was also sleeping with me in my bungalow. If I went out diving, she would wait at the scuba shop until she saw the boat coming at which point she would run to the shore to great me.
Locha had followed me up to the bungalow one afternoon when I went to shower. She was napping on the bed when I heard someone calling her name outside. I went out to find a young European woman. She informed me that someone told her Locha had been seen with a tourist on this property. I introduced myself, than I let her have it. I explained the condition in which I found Locha. She said she and her boyfriend, a local, live two hours away and only come to the beach on the weekend and that they have someone look after Locha during the week. I told her who ever she had “taking care of Locha” was not doing their job. I also informed her about the gang of boys and how Locha is constantly being chased and terrorized by them. She was aware of this! She admitted that she probably should not have taken Locha as a pet last year when she was a puppy. I agreed. I explained that I could find Locha a good home; all she needed to do was give me the O.K. I told her to think about it and let me know.
As hard as it was for me, I encouraged her to take Locha with her. When she called Locha, she wouldn’t even go to her. She had to physically pull her by her collar. I didn’t see Locha for a couple of days. When I did see her, she had a thin piece of twine tied to her collar. She must have been tied up and broke free. Once again she was very dehydrated. All I could imagine was she was being tied up during the week until her owner returned on Friday. We easily fell back into our old routine.
I was preparing for my return to Uganda. I knew I would be gone for a week and I was worried about Locha’s wellbeing. Many of my friends who worked in the shops along the beach would chase the gang of boys away when they would become a threat to Locha. And, local businesses were starting to provide her with food and water. I was still worried about her safety at night while I was gone. My first day back from Uganda I received a call from a friend who was on his way to work at the scuba shop. He said Locha was being chased by the local boys and they were throwing rocks at her. He had run the boys off and Locha was now with him at the shop. I went to her rescue at once. I found her with fresh wounds on her head from the rocks. I was leaving in five days and I knew if I didn’t get her off that island she would not survive much longer.
It was time to create “Operation Export Locha”.
I know what some of you may be thinking. “It’s just a dog, why would you go through all of that trouble and expense?” I’ll tell you why. Passion. I knew in my heart I had to do something. I would never have been able to live with myself if I would have walked away knowing I could have done something to save her. Sadly enough, I have come across many dogs and cats in need of a good home while traveling through Africa, but there was something different about Locha. This dog was a good pet, too good of a pet to let be tortured and left to die. Besides, she had not been spayed and the last thing this island needed was more stray dogs to torture and kill!
The hardest part about my African journey was the fact that I would have to leave my dog Phoebe for six months. For those of you who know me well know that she is my shadow. Where ever you see me, you see Phoebe. My dear friends Linda and Kurt have opened their hearts and home to Phoebe and agreed to take care of her during my travels. They love her so much that before I left I remember Kurt saying “I want us to get a dog just like Phoebe…she’s the perfect size…” So I contacted Linda from Zanzibar and let her know that I found a dog exactly like Phoebe. If she and Kurt want her, I will ship her to them in two days. It didn’t take long before I had the response I was hoping for “we’ll take her!”
I was on a mission. First, I found out that all she needed to arrive in the US was her rabies shot and heath certificate. No quarantine needed. I took her to the only vet on the island and had this taken care of. Then, I flew with her on a tiny bush plane from Zanzibar to the mainland of Tanzania. My friend Barbara that owned the lodge where I was staying offered up her dog's airline crate. Then, I booked her on a flight with KLM which has an awesome doggy program. The only problem was she couldn't fly until the next day, so I needed to find a hotel in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania... a Muslim town, which would allow me a room with a dog. After searching for two hours, a nice Indian owner allowed me to stay in his “hotel”, which actually wasn't too bad. The morning the same taxi driver that helped us search for a hotel the night before, picked us up to take us to the airport. Locha jumped in the car and gave him a swift lick on the face as if to say, “Thank you for helping me… let’s go!” Thank goodness he didn’t mind this show of affection. After completing the paperwork at the cargo department, Locha was ready to go. The flight was from Tanzania to Holland, where she would spend seven hours in KLM's doggy hotel, be taken for a walk and fed... receive the royal treatment before flying to her final destination, where my friend Linda was eagerly waiting to meet the new addition to her family. She was waiting with a brand new collar and matching leash, a plush new bed, fresh water and food. My dear Locha, you are about to be spoiled American style. You will never have another rock thrown at you. You will have regular visits with a proper puppy doctor. Your water bowl will always be filled. You will always have two meals a day, plus lots of yummy puppy treats. You will have toys, yes toys, something you have never heard of before. Instead of being left behind to fend for yourself, you will be included on family trips. And, when it’s not possible for you to go along you will be taken care of by Aunt Kelly and Cousin Phoebe. You will be included in holiday celebrations and taken out on boat trips. You will affectionately be dressed in Halloween costumes, sweaters and bandanas… get use to it, Sistah! You will be invited into your Mommy and Daddy’s bed in the morning for love’ns. You will be happy, healthy, loved and I’ll say it again… spoiled American style! Seemed like a perfect ending until I got the phone call.
One morning I was viewing photos sent to me by Linda of Locha and Phoebe playing together. I was smiling thinking about happy Locha must be. Then, my phone rang with some unexpected news. A friend of mine from Zanzibar was phoning to tell me that Locha’s former owner had opened a case with the police about her disappearance. The police had taken everyone from the lodge where I was staying to the station to interview them about me and my whereabouts. Only one person on that island knows how to reach me and I will never reveal his name. NEVER! You see, as I move from country to country in Africa, I change SIM cards in my cell phone. The number I was using in Tanzania is of no use as soon as I left the country. I am a mystery.
My friends, I am a wanted woman. An internationally wanted woman. Wanted for doing the right thing. Wanted for saving an animal from certain death. Wanted for dog-napping in Zanzibar. Would I do it again? In a heart-beat! I bid farewell to my island paradise as our love is forbidden.